


Faith, Unshaken

by southwarden



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon Fight, F/F, Feelings, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Urn of Sacred Ashes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3601686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southwarden/pseuds/southwarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The temple has a way of reopening old wounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dragon

"Andraste protect us!" Kolgrim screamed, bringing the horn to his lips.

A piercing note rang through the air before a blow from Shale cut him off. Eliza parried a clumsy swing from another cultist and threw him to the floor, where Arom's fangs tore into his throat. The young Warden looked around. Nobody seemed to be hurt, and all the cultists were taken care of. She sheathed her sword with a sigh of relief. She hadn't expected that finding the Urn would be so harrowing. Cultists, shades, wraiths...even drakes had attacked them on their way through the mountain. Hopefully the way would be clear from here on--

A slender hand touched her shoulder and she looked around, expecting to see Leliana. Instead it was Morrigan, a pensive frown on her face.

"Perhaps 'tis just the wind shrieking through the mountains," Morrigan said quietly. "But do you hear something?"

"I can't hear a thing with this helmet on," The young Warden replied. "Hold on a second..."

Eliza pulled off her helmet, relishing the cold wind as it tousled her sweaty hair. She _could_ hear something. It didn't sound like wind, though. It was more like a sort of...beating sound, like the flapping of wings. And it was getting louder.

"You don't think it's a--" Eliza began.

A deafening roar filled the mountain air. She looked up as a gigantic shape passed over them, the shadow of its winged form blocking out the weak sunlight.

"Dear Maker," Leliana whispered.

They stood in shock and horror as the high dragon circled the mountaintop, its yellow gaze baleful and clearly focused on them. With one final shriek, the creature landed further down the slope, just outside the ring of ruined pillars.

Eliza gaped. Never had she seen any living creature so huge. Each of its claws were at least as long as her forearm. It looked like it could kill them all without much effort. She looked over at Alistair; his expression mirrored what she was feeling at the moment.

"What do we do?" He whispered.

A thousand thoughts flashed through her head, things from ' _Andraste's flaming knickers, what do they feed that thing_ ,' to ' _would it be inappropriate for me to retire from Wardening right this second?_ ,' to ' _if I can distract the dragon, Sten can come in from the side and_ \--'

"Alright," She said, jamming her helmet back on and hoping her voice sounded steady. It would be a long shot, but maybe... "A dragon. It's...definitely big, but nothing we can't handle. Alistair, you and I will take the front. Keep your shield up, and let me try to attract its attention. Morrigan, Wynne, I want you to stay back. Attack when you can, but don't draw its focus. Shale, you keep to the left of them and throw some rocks. See if you can get its head,"

Eliza turned to Sten, whose expression was as stoic as ever.

"Sten, while Alistair and I distract it, you can go in from the right, come up behind that rubble and try to score a hit on its underside. Zev, keep hidden as long as you can. If you see an opening, go in and hit it where it's vulnerable. Try for the legs or the belly, the neck if you can reach it. Wear it down, don't try to kill it all at once. And Leliana..." Eliza glared at the redheaded bard. "Stay back and use your bow. I mean it. Your daggers aren't going to do much against that thing."

Leliana opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again at the pleading expression on Eliza's face. She nodded.

"As you say, Eliza,"

Before Eliza could say anything else, the dragon let out another earsplitting roar, looking around for its prey. Steeling herself, Eliza nudged Alistair.

"Come on, Alistair. I'll be right beside you."

After a moment of hesitation, Alistair gave a tiny nod. Eliza hefted her shield, squared her shoulders, and dashed out of the cave mouth, yelling and hitting her sword against her shield to attract the beast's attention.

"Come on, show me what you've got!!"

The high dragon's head snapped around; it gave a monstrous snarl and started forward. Once again, Eliza was struck by just how huge it was. Fear closed its icy hand around her heart as the dragon leapt towards her, its jaws opening to reveal rows of jagged teeth.

"Oy! Over here!"

Alistair was at the dragon's left side, his blade scraping against its dark scales. She almost grinned at the sight, and as the dragon barreled forward she spun into its attack, drawing her sword and cutting a bloody crescent into the creature's muscled leg. It roared in displeasure, swatting at her with one massive claw.

Soaring through the air was almost a pleasant sensation, Eliza reflected. At least until you hit the ground. Her helmet flew off as she crashed into the rocks, the breath slammed from her lungs. Coughing, she pushed herself to her feet. An enormous rock sailed over her head, smashing into the dragon's left wing. The beast shrieked and stumbled back a step. Eliza glanced back at Shale. The golem shrugged.

"I missed the head."

Not bothering to look for the lost helm, Eliza ran at the dragon once more. All her knowledge of swordplay was useless against this creature. It required less finesse and control than it did well-placed hacking and slashing.

She let out a triumphant yell as Sten's sword sunk deep in the dragon's side, drawing an agonized bellow from the beast. Alistair finally landed a solid hit, his blade tearing into its leg. A bolt of lightning crackled through the air, striking the dragon's right shoulder and knocking it back a step.

"Good! Keep at it!!" Eliza yelled, waving her sword to rally the others.

The dragon snapped at her, but, emboldened by their success, the young Warden sidestepped and swung, drawing blood. Snarling, the beast drew back. Zevran took the opportunity to leap from his hiding place and strike at the dragon's exposed stomach.

Clearly enraged by its tiny tormentors, the high dragon swept its tail across the rocky ground. Once again, Eliza found herself flying through the air and landing headfirst in a pile of rubble by one of the pillars. As she struggled to her feet, she saw the dragon release a thick stream of orange flame upon Alistair. He barely raised his shield in time to keep himself from being cooked. Zev ran forward, ramming his blades into the dragon's leg. Distracted from its original target, it broke off its flame and caught the elf a mighty blow with its claw, sending him spinning into a pillar.

Gritting her teeth and adjusting her grip on sword and shield, Eliza tried to think of a new strategy. This battle was not going to be easy.

\- - -

Eliza spat out a mouthful of blood and wiped her lips clumsily, smearing her face with crimson. The battle had been going on for what seemed like forever, and she barely had the strength to lift her sword. The only things keeping her standing were Wynne's rejuvenating spells and her new and personal grudge against the dragon. All of the companions were covered in cuts and bruises; Zevran and Alistair were hurt more severely and lingered behind pillars, clutching a gouged arm and a cracked rib, respectively.

However, the dragon also appeared injured, seeming less steady on its feet. Dark blood gushed from the gash in its side and from several other deep wounds across its body. If they could just score one or two more decent hits...

Eliza cast a glance over at the slope, where Leliana stood, swaying slightly. The bard sported several cuts across the face and her leather armor was scuffed and torn in many places. Leliana looked back at her, expression unreadable. Eliza gave her a tight smile.

Sten grunted loudly behind her and Eliza turned, staring in dismay as the dragon pushed past the qunari, Alistair and Arom, charging straight for the alcove where Wynne and Morrigan were standing.

" _OVER HERE!_ " Eliza bellowed.

Gathering all her strength, she hurled herself at the dragon. Her shield rang harmlessly off the dark scales, but her sword sunk to the hilt in the dragon's shoulder. As she pulled her blade from its flesh, the beast swung around to face her. She spun, ramming her sword into the side of the dragon's neck.

She shook the bloody hair from her eyes and cursed. The blow had gone through flesh, but it wasn't a deep cut. The beast snarled, raising one gigantic limb. Stumbling back, she tried to raise her shield against the claws of the very close, very angry dragon.

Her shield and armor took some of the blow. And thank the Maker for that, she would have been torn in half otherwise. As it was, the huge claws tore through her breastplate like it was air, ripping into her side and slamming her into the ground.

Eliza lay in a pile of rocks and dirt. She was too dazed to move, the immediate agony giving way to numbness. All she could taste and smell was blood, all she could see was the blurry stone in front of her.

She heard faint cries in the distance. Her companions were still in danger. She dragged herself up on an elbow, trying to concentrate.

_"Face me, creature!"_

An arrow scorched through the air above her, exploding in an inferno against the dragon's chest. Snarling, the creature turned towards the slope again.

The young Warden's mind snapped into sudden, horrified clarity. _Leliana_. The bard was the only one on the slope. If the dragon were to reach her...

Eliza forced herself to stand, gripping her sword in both hands. The dragon was almost directly over her. It seemed to have forgotten she was there. Or assumed she was dead. As the beast began its charge towards the slope, she mustered her strength, staggered forward, and plunged the blade into the dragon's chest.

The force of its run almost swept her off her feet, but she closed her eyes and adjusted her stance and focused on keeping her sword where it was. The dragon's momentum carried it forward, ripping the sword through its torso, tearing a long, deep gash the full length of its body.

The dragon's terrifying shriek echoed off the mountainside. Eliza ducked her head and sputtered as she was drenched in dragon's blood.

The creature let out a few more screams, weaker and weaker each time. It took a few more loping, unsteady steps towards the slope. Then, with a final gurgling screech, the dragon toppled to the ground, its tremendous weight shaking the very rocks.

\- - -

Triumph rushed through Alistair as he saw the beast fall. He barked out a laugh and fell against a pillar, pulling his helmet off to make sure he wasn't seeing things. A rough tongue stroked his hand. Grinning, the Warden scratched Arom behind the ears.

"She really did it!" He said, somewhat incredulous. But then, Eliza always found a way. "Maker's breath, I can't believe it."

A call rang out behind him and Alistair whirled. His eyes fell on Wynne, who was running towards the dragon's corpse. What now?

Confused, he jogged up the hill, ignoring the pain in his side. Eliza was still standing. She was dripping with dark blood and hunched over, but she seemed alright.

Then he saw it. The young Warden's veridium chestplate was marred by three massive cuts, clearly marked by the dragon's claws. He hadn't been able to tell before, but by the way Eliza was holding her side, it was clear that she was wounded. She looked back at them, but her brown eyes were glazed.

He couldn't tell how badly she was hurt. His blood had turned to ice when the dragon took her down, but then she just got right back up and sliced it open.

He couldn't see the wound. But Wynne looked worried, and that was never a good sign.

Alistair placed a tentative hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Liza...are you okay?"

"I...I got the dragon...right?" She grabbed his hand clumsily.

"Yes, you did," Wynne said. She took the Warden by the arm. "Eliza...I think you should sit down. Let me take a look at your side."

The young Warden shook her head, wobbling.

"I...need to...need to make sure..." She croaked. "You're all...alright? Leliana..."

" _Eliza!!_ "

Suddenly the bard was there, skidding to a halt just in front of Eliza. She was white as a sheet, terror in her eyes. She reached out to touch the warrior but stopped herself, drawing back when she saw the wound.

"Leliana," Eliza grinned crookedly, seeming relieved. "You're...okay..."

"Dear Maker, _Eliza_ ," Leliana whispered.

The young Warden waved off their concern, taking a step forward.

"'M fine. Need to get...ashes. Anyone seen...my helmet...?"

And with those words, Eliza crumpled to the ground.


	2. Healing

Night fell.

Everyone seemed a bit subdued; Zevran's jokes lacked their usual enthusiasm, and even Morrigan seemed a bit worried. Despite Alistair's best efforts, he had not been able to get Leliana to eat anything, or even move from her spot by the main tent where Wynne was healing Eliza.

"Come on, Leliana. You haven't eaten since last night!" He pleaded. "At least nibble on some bread? For me?"

"I am not hungry," The bard said quietly. She knew her red eyes would give away her true reasons, but couldn't bear to eat while Eliza lay injured. "Thank you, though."

How could she indulge herself now? This was her own fault.

She'd seen the dragon charging at the mages. If she had only acted a bit sooner, she could have drawn the dragon's attention and Eliza wouldn't have been hurt.

She hadn't even been in the thick of the battle! She should have been there for Eliza. She should always be there for Eliza. What if her foolish hesitation cost the Warden her life?

Alistair sighed and plopped himself down beside her, shaking the bard from her thoughts.

"I know you like Eliza," He said gently. "Well, we all do. Though I suspect that your 'like' is different than our 'like'."

Leliana's heart skipped. She opened her mouth to offer a weak protest, but Alistair held up his hand to stop her.

"Look, all I wanted to say is that it's gonna be fine. You know Wynne's handled worse," He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "She'll be up in a few minutes, laughing and teasing us for worrying over nothing."

"What if she doesn't make it?" Leliana whispered.

"She'll make it. Eliza's nothing if not persistent." Alistair said, attempting to be comforting.

_Nothing but brave, honest and kind. And funny, sweet, caring, beautiful..._

After Marjolaine, Leliana had thought she would never feel this way again. But Eliza was so unlike her old lover, so guilelessly kind and noble that the bard was surprised at how quickly she'd felt herself drawn to the warrior.

Over the past few months, Eliza had continued to surprise her.

The Warden often walked by her as they traveled, chatting, joking, and listening intently whenever Leliana told her a story. She was a wonderful audience. She actually seemed to listen, to hang on every word.

Leliana truly enjoyed being around her. She had fun with the Warden, which was insane considering the journey they were on, but true nonetheless. She liked Eliza's mischievous streak, her sense of humor. But more than that, she liked the sweet sincerity that the warrior showed towards her. The Warden would laugh it off, but the fact remained that she picked Andraste's Grace for Leliana whenever she came across it, and she remembered her stories down to the letter, and she trusted her without question.

She especially liked sharing the night watch. She felt safe with Eliza. She could speak without fear of judgment. Nighttime always seemed like a better time for storytelling anyhow, for expressing her own feelings through the tales she told.

So Leliana knew that she was in too deep when she sat under the stars with Eliza and told her the story of Alindra and her soldier.

She had never felt quite this way before. She was giddy and terrified and miserable and elated in ways she'd never been. She wanted to sing. She wanted to cry. She wanted to take Eliza's hand and run with her until her lungs ached as much as her heart. She wanted to kiss the Warden breathless.

She wanted Eliza more than she'd wanted anything in her entire life. But...it was too risky. She snorted at her own cowardice. An Orlesian bard, terrified of rejection.

More than that, she wasn't sure that she deserved the Warden. Since their encounter with Marjolaine, her confidence had been fragile.

Even though she longed for more, their friendship gave her a happiness she had not experienced for years. And she...she could be content with that. But...if she lost Eliza now...

She squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in her arms. She couldn't lose Eliza. It would destroy her.

Wynne pushed open the tent flap suddenly and glanced out, looking over at Leliana and Alistair. The bard stood, fear clutching at her chest.

"Is...is she..."

"She's fine," Wynne said, smiling. "A bit weak, but she'll feel better after some sleep. You can see her in the morning."

Leliana felt her knees go weak with relief. They watched as Wynne walked away from the main tent, presumably to find some food and water. Alistair looked over at the bard, about to make a joking comment, and stopped short. Leliana had both hands over her mouth, eyes shining with unshed tears. Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, the bard gave Alistair a watery smile.

"She's going to be okay,"

Alistair laughed and hugged her.

"She's going to be okay," He repeated.

\- - -

_"Was the ogre very big, auntie?"_

_Eliza laughed, lifting Oren onto her lap. The young boy looked up at her with big, eager eyes, waiting for her to continue her story. Fergus looked on in amusement while Oriana sat next to him, seeming torn between affection and mild concern. Mother and Father stood smiling in the corner, though Mother looked much more reproving than Father. Arom, as usual, was snoring loudly at her feet._

_"It was a huge a beast as you've ever seen, Oren," She said dramatically. "With great yellow gnashing teeth and horns as long as my body--"_

_"But you weren't scared, were you?" Oren asked._

_Smiling, Eliza ruffled her nephew's hair._

_"Of course not," The young Warden told him. "I took my sword and leaped onto the ogre's chest, and then I--"_

_"Pup, you'll give the poor lad nightmares!" Bryce laughed._

_Grinning ruefully, Eliza revised her story._

_"And then I, uh...brewed him a nice cup of tea and we started a knitting circle with the rest of the darkspawn. It was a lovely evening. Made a pair of mittens for the ogre."_

_"How sweet, little sister," Fergus chuckled._

_"That's not what really happened!" Oren said indignantly, crossing his arms._

_Oriana picked him up, hugging him close for a moment before letting him sit down on the rug. The boy immediately picked up his wooden sword, running in circles around the room and hacking at imaginary ogres._

_"Well, besides battle and murder, how have your travels been?" Oriana asked._

_"Excellent, actually," Eliza replied. "Well, the Joining wasn't too pleasant. And the battle at Ostagar was...well...pretty brutal. All the fighting can be exhausting. But I love to travel, and the Grey Wardens serve a noble purpose. I do worry, of course. That we won't be able to slay the archdemon, or that we'll be killed before we even reach that point. It's a lot of responsibility." Eliza dropped her gaze. "But...someone needs to do it. It's all so new to me...sometimes it almost seems like a dream."_

_"Your travels must have led you to some remarkable places,"_

_"Yes," Eliza replied, thinking of the Circle Tower, the temple in the mountain, and the swamps of the Kocari Wilds. "And I've met so many friends on the road..."_

_"Just friends?" Fergus said, eyes gleaming. "No beautiful young women warming your bedroll? No lovely ladies falling over their feet to romance you?"_

_"Of course not," Eliza muttered. "I'm a Grey Warden, not a bloody courtesan."_

_"Ooh, I know that blush!" Fergus crowed triumphantly. "My baby sister's sweet on someone."_

_"That is so cute," Oriana cooed. "One of your traveling companions?"_

_"I don't--it's not--this is ridiculous!" Eliza protested._

_"Okay, little sister. I'll play along," Fergus said, grinning. "So who's this girl you're not sweet on? Is it that grumpy sorceress you mentioned? Or is it the other one, that minstrel..."_

_"Bard," Eliza said automatically. "She's a bard, not a minstrel. And her name is Leliana."_

_"So that's the one, then," Fergus grinned. "Go on, tell us about her."_

_"Um...well, she was a bard, and she became a Chantry sister. I met her in Lothering," The young Warden said. "She's...I don't know...she's unlike anyone I've ever met before. She's clever and witty and kind and sweet, and I...I just...she's just a wonderful person to be around. I love spending time with her. Sometimes she just looks...sad, and I wish that I could do something more to cheer her up. But most of the time, at least when she's around the rest of us, she seems happy."_

_Eliza smiled fondly, recalling several moments in camp._

_"It may sound strange, considering our mission and all, but...we have fun together. She makes me laugh. And when she smiles, it lights up the camp like sunshine. And her eyes are like a summer sky. Oh, and she tells the best stories--"_

_"Is she pretty?" Oren asked, taking a break from his ogre-slaying to join the conversation._

_"Well, yes. She's very pretty. Beautiful, actually," Eliza glared at Fergus, whose grin was slowly spreading across his face. "She is just a friend, Fergus! Honestly."_

_"But the way you talk about her is so sweet," Oriana said. "I would bet that she likes you too, Eliza."_

_"I'll take that bet," Said Eliza wryly. "I mean, even if I was...interested, she could have practically anyone she wants. She's gorgeous and wonderful and she's so experienced...surely she wants someone more sophisticated, or heroic, or...or better at knitting than me. She only sees me as a friend."_

_"Don't sell yourself short, little sister," Fergus said, grin still firmly in place. "I mean, you may be a bit daft, and not quite as good-looking as Arom here, but you're not so awful. Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick."_

_"I think what your brother means," Mother said, looking at Fergus reproachfully. "Is that you are a fine young lady, and anyone would be lucky to have you."_

_"They're right, pup," Father agreed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You need to wake up."_

_"Thank you for saying so," Eliza smiled. "Though, as my family, you sort of have to say so."_

_"Pup," Father said again. "You need to wake up."_

_The young Warden frowned. What was he talking about?_

_"Wake up. You need to wake_ _ up." _

And then the world was going fuzzy around her and she was drifting up, out of Cousland Castle and into a world of murky grays and browns. Muffled noises surrounded her as she struggled through the darkness. The sounds slowly became sharper, clearer. She became aware of the cold at the same time she became aware of the pain. It was a dull, aching throb across her entire body, but especially concentrated around her midsection.

"Eliza? Eliza, are you awake?"

Though her eyelids felt heavy as stones, Eliza managed to open them just a bit. She was lying on a bedroll in an unfamiliar tent. Wynne's face was hovering over hers.

"What's going on?" She tried to move, but Wynne placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Lie still, Eliza,"

The Warden was suddenly aware of how dry her throat was.

"Can I have some water?" She asked.

"Of course, dear," Wynne placed a small cup against her lips.

Eliza drank as much as she was able (which wasn't much), before looking back up at the older woman.

"How are you feeling?" Wynne asked.

"I've been worse," The young Warden croaked. "What...happened, exactly?"

"You were injured when we fought the high dragon," Wynne said gently. "I have been healing you."

The memories rushed back. The search for the Urn of Sacred Ashes, the ruined temple, the cultists, Kolgrim, the dragon...

A shudder went through her as she remembered the ripping agony of the dragon's claws, her screaming muscles as she rose and tried to kill the beast. She'd gotten it...right?

"Thank you, Wynne," Eliza said softly. Worry was starting to creep back into her mind. "The others, are they all--"

"All alive and taken care of," Wynne assured her. "No wounds as bad as yours. They are just worried about you."

Eliza sighed with relief.

"Good. I would hate to see anyone killed on a quest to save a man's life,"

"Then you must be be more careful the next time you fight something so dangerous," Wynne said, her voice turning stern. "You cannot risk yourself for your companions...me included."

"What?" Eliza felt a prickle of anger. "Wynne, it was a strategy. Sten, Alistair, and I are the most durable warriors. We couldn't fight that thing without getting close to it."

"You know what I mean, Eliza," Wynne said. "You saw the dragon turn on us and threw yourself in its path to distract it. You cannot do that. Your life is more valuable than ours."

"That's ridiculous," Eliza pushed herself up on her elbows. "Yes, I was trying to distract it, but there's always danger in close-range combat. It could have happened at any point during the battle. Alistair and I couldn't--and won't--stay out of the way. We're warriors, Wynne, there's always going to be a possibility that we're injured."

"And if you die?" Wynne asked, fierce. "What will Ferelden do without the Grey Wardens."

"Well, what would you have me do?" Eliza shot back. "I'm not going to cower behind the rest of you just to keep myself in pristine condition. Our occupation is death, Wynne. My life is always in danger. And the notion that mine is somehow more valuable than yours is insane. We are all equals. We're all fighting for the same cause. And we're all important. I'm not going to stop protecting you when I feel it's necessary, and I know that you'll do the same for me."

"Ferelden needs a Grey Warden more than it needs an aging mage, Eliza,"

"What if you'd been killed?" Eliza said quietly. "You've saved our lives a thousand times already. Without you, I'd probably be dead. I need you. Ferelden needs all of you much more than it needs a Warden like me. I'm only useful as long as the Blight goes on."

Wynne's stern expression faded to sympathy. She leaned over, pulling the young Warden into a warm, gentle hug. Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat. She hadn't been hugged like this since her mother died. She rubbed at her nose, blinking rapidly as Wynne pulled away.

"I understand what you're saying, Eliza. But you are more to Ferelden than just a sword to slay the darkspawn. You will be a leader. You give people hope," She clasped Eliza's face in her hands. "And you are a good friend to us. I'm not asking you to disregard our lives, or run away from battle. I'm asking you to be more careful, not just for Ferelden's sake, but because I care about you. Have a bit more regard for your own safety, and don't immediately throw yourself into the path of danger for us. Consider all the options."

"I...I will," The young Warden said. "But I'm not letting you give your lives for me. I care about you. All of you."

The mage nodded at Eliza, a small, sad smile on her lips.

"I know you do. But right now you need to stay alive more than we do," She said. "Use that for motivation to keep safe. If you're careful, none of us will have to put ourselves in danger to protect you."

An image of Leliana shooting at the dragon flashed through her mind.

"Alright," She said, defeated. "Look, I know...objectively...that you're right. I have to survive. And I don't want to die, of course, but...I can't...I just...I understand. I'll try and be more careful in the future, Wynne. I promise. I don't want anyone to get hurt trying to protect me."

Wynne nodded, squeezing her shoulder. Then she rose to her feet.

"Good. It's important to see the big picture, but know that I also say this out of personal concern for you and our other comrades. You wouldn't want your recklessness to lead to someone else being hurt or killed," She gazed down at Eliza, who nodded. "Now, I'm going to go tell the others you're awake. I know there's a certain bard who will be quite happy to know you're all right."

She turned to leave, but paused for a moment.

"Eliza...although it was a rash move, and you should not do it again, I...do appreciate your effort to protect me," She said.

Eliza smiled a little at that.

The young Warden watched Wynne leave the tent. It was certainly good to be back in the land of the living, but she couldn't help but feel a bit wistful about the dream. Her family was...was dead. Fergus could be alive, but that was a slim hope at best. She was never going to see them again. As much as she might want to sit down with her family and fend off teasing comments and trade adventure stories...she couldn't.

She tried to force the thoughts out of her head. This wasn't the time to be thinking about her family. When she was running her sword through Howe's black heart, then she could think about them. When this all was over, she could think about them. But not here, not now. It was too much to handle the mission and the loss of her family all at once. Better to push it away for now, handle it later. Focus on something, anything besides the destruction of everything she'd ever known and held dear.

Truthfully, she was afraid to think about it. She'd tried to deal with what had happened slowly, over time, but it had proven to be much less painful to simply ignore it.

Wynne was right. She had to be more careful. She couldn't lose these people, the ones she'd come to think of as dear friends (whether or not they felt the same). She had to protect them. What if Leliana had been the one who had thrown herself at the dragon to save Eliza from her own foolishness? She  _ had _ shot at it to distract it. Eliza's mistake could easily have cost the bard her life. That couldn't happen.

Her heart ached at the thought of losing Leliana.

The young Warden resolved to be more cautious. More thoughtful. She would never forgive herself if anyone was hurt...or worse...on her behalf.

"Liza!"

Alistair popped his head into the tent. A wide grin stretched across his face.

"Dear Maker, you look awful!" He slumped down next to the bedroll.

"It's nice to see you too, Alistair," She said dryly.

He laughed, sounding more relieved than amused. When he looked back at her, his hazel eyes had softened.

"Really, though. I'm glad you're all right. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Curl up and die, probably," She joked.

"Right. You know I'm paralyzed with fear whenever you're out of sight," He chuckled. "Anyways, I should probably get out so that Leliana can talk to you." The Warden dropped his voice conspiratorially. "You know, she's been sitting outside this tent since we set up camp. Hasn't eaten or anything. I think she's managed to put the blame on herself, somehow."

"That's ridiculous," She said. "It's nobody's fault but mine. And the dragon's, I suppose."

"Well, I know that," Alistair replied. "It's her you need to persuade."

Giving Eliza's arm a quick squeeze, he stood and shuffled from the tent.

"Leliana!" She heard him call. "Leliana, she's up! I told you she'd be fine."

After a few moments, Leliana pushed open the tent flap. It was hard to make out her expression in the dim light.

" _Eliza_ ," Leliana's voice was thick with emotion.

She edged into the tent, then hesitated at the young Warden's bedside. Eliza smiled and patted the ground next to her bedroll, and Leliana sat down, seeming very interested in her feet all of a sudden.

"I am...glad you are all right," The bard said quietly.

Eliza reached out and grasped Leliana's hand.

"I'm glad you're okay, too. I was worried."

"You...were worried about me?" Leliana let out a disbelieving laugh. "I...you...you do realize that you were the one who was hurt?"

"Well, yes. But it could have been anyone," Eliza replied. She felt oddly bold. "I have to watch out for everyone, especially my bard."

Leliana opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then shut it again. _Is that a blush?_ Eliza wondered, then dismissed it as her mind playing tricks on her.

"I should have reacted faster," Leliana said finally. "Maybe then you would not have been injured. I should have--"

"Leli, you can't blame yourself for this--"

"I can," Leliana interrupted. "I am supposed to protect you, and I failed."

"You did protect me. You always protect me. You've been saving my life about twice a day since I met you," Eliza said. "It was my own stupid fault. And maybe the dragon's. But I'm fine, it's okay. No harm done."

Leliana was shaking her head. Her blue eyes took on a haunted look.

"It was too close," She whispered, voice cracking. "I...I can't lose you, Eliza."

Eliza felt her stomach twist with guilt at worrying the bard. She squeezed Leliana's hand with a gentle grin.

"You're not going to lose me," She said firmly. "I'm tougher than I look."

"I know that," Leliana replied. "But what if, someday, we face a monster we cannot defeat? Or what if you are injured like this and Wynne is not there to heal you?"

"We could sit here thinking about 'what ifs' all night," Eliza said gently. "But I'm alive, and you're alive, and with any luck I'll learn from this and keep it from happening again."

Leliana's jaw clenched. She was silent for a long moment, and Eliza cocked her head curiously. Leliana's eyes looked rather red...had she been crying? It was hard to picture; Eliza had never seen or heard her crying before. She still looked gorgeous, of course, when didn't she? Maybe she hadn't been crying after all, maybe it was just a trick of the light.

The bard glared at her with those beautiful azure eyes.

"You...might be right," Leliana admitted reluctantly. "But this is...I suppose this is the first time one of us has been close to death. We may often be in danger, or be injured, but...it only really just hit me now that...that we could truly die on this mission. I know that sounds foolish--"

"No, I know what you mean," Eliza said. "We came into this quest knowing our duties, knowing that it could cost us our lives. But we don't really think about the true consequences until...something like this happens."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Eliza spoke again.

"Leliana...I will do everything in my power to make sure that this doesn't happen again," She said. "This is a good thing. Showed me that I have to be more careful, and I will. We're going to make it through this journey, don't worry."

Leliana's lip quirked up the tiniest bit at the Warden's solemn reassurance.

"I hope that I am still allowed to worry every once in a while," She said. "I care very much...about all of you. And..." Leliana appeared to be waging a brief internal war. "And you especially. I-I mean...you are my favorite Warden, after all."

"Alistair will be devastated," Eliza teased, trying desperately not to blush as Leliana clutched her hand. Her heart was racing like a hummingbird's.

"Silly," Leliana chided. But she was finally smiling, if only a little.

Eliza chuckled, then winced as her a sharp pain went through her ribs.

"Are you all right?" The redhead asked, concerned.

"Yes...though maybe I should lie back for a bit," The young Warden replied sheepishly.

"Then perhaps I should go," Leliana said, rising to her feet. "Let my Warden get some sleep..."

"Well, a-actually, I had hoped that maybe..." Eliza blurted. "You could stay...for a little while? Keep me company? Only if you want to, of course--"

"Hush," Leliana placed a finger on the Warden's lips, smiling fondly. "I like nothing better than keeping you company."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to provide a little backstory...hopefully it's not too much exposition.
> 
> Coming up next...more feelings and more awkward flirting!


	3. The Gauntlet

"Are you sure you're ready? It's only been a day."

Eliza smiled at Alistair, who was looking worriedly at her.

"We can't just lounge around on the mountaintop. Arl Eamon needs these ashes," She replied, buckling on her baldric with minor difficulty. "Don't worry, Alistair. What could possibly go wrong?"

"I hate it when you say that," He grumbled, wandering off to put on his armor.

Eliza's armor had been too badly damaged to wear, so she was dressed in a simple linen shirt, trousers and an old wool-lined coat of Alistair's. They found a collection of plate armor in the dragon's trove, but Wynne had forbidden her from putting on the heavy armor before Eliza could even suggest it.

_"You have just been torn apart by a dragon,"_ The mage ordered. _"I will not allow you to kill yourself by putting on fifty pounds of armor when I just spent a good few hours healing you."_

The sword seemed heavier on the young Warden's aching shoulder, and she was still covered in bandages and bruises, but she couldn't keep the smile off her face. She glanced over at Leliana, who was strapping on her leather armor. The bard had remained with her the day after the battle with the dragon, telling her stories of Orlais and her life as a bard, carefully keeping to the amusing tales of foppish nobles and frivolous misadventures and away from any mention of Marjolaine.

She woke the warrior in the morning with a sunny smile and a handful of dried fruit for breakfast. Eliza felt strange for thinking that this was the best morning she'd ever had.

Waking up to Leliana's smile shouldn't make her as blissfully happy as it did. They weren't lovers--Leliana was just being a good friend (as Eliza repeated over and over whenever she found her mind drifting towards the bard...her radiant beauty, her musical laugh, the faint freckles sprinkled over the graceful bridge of her nose... _stop it Eliza!_ )

Eliza tore her gaze away from Leliana and sat down to put on her boots. A pained grunt escaped her as her bruised and battered ribs protested against the movement. She pouted, glaring down at the brown leather footwear.

_The mighty Grey Warden, conquered by a pair of boots. What an impressive story this will make..._

"Need some help?"

Looking up, Eliza saw Leliana standing in front of her, a smile gracing her full lips. The young Warden grinned back sheepishly, straightening up.

"Oh, no. I'm just, ah...stretching my back," She said.

"That's funny, it looked like you were trying to put your boots on," The bard said innocently. "But since you know I would be more than willing to help you if you were having trouble with anything, I must have been wrong."

"All right, all right," Eliza conceded.

With a slightly smug smile, Leliana knelt in front of the young warrior and picked up a boot.

"Just tell me if anything hurts," She said, waiting for the Warden to nod before she continued.

Leliana's touch was so delicate that Eliza could hardly feel it, but the bard's deft hands had both her boots on and had laced them up in half the time it normally took the warrior. Eliza admired her friend's work.

"I should have you do that every morning," She said.

"I am a woman of many skills, Warden," Leliana replied, her blue eyes sparkling. "Singing songs, weaving tales, putting on boots...I do it all. For a small fee."

Eliza raised an eyebrow, chuckling.

"I must have racked up quite the tab by now," She said.

"Oh, don't worry about that, _ma cherie_ ," Leliana placed a hand on her knee, squeezing gently before rising to her feet. "I'm sure you'll think of some way to repay me."

Eliza's heart leapt into her throat. She ducked her head, frantically trying to rein in her feelings-- _she's just being a good friend, stop thinking of her that way, I'm sure she was just joking, don't be an idiot, she's just being a good friend_ \--

She stood, running a hand through her hair.  _Focus, Eliza_ .

"I suppose I should go back and pack. Wynne's been telling me I can't carry anything today, but I managed to persuade her to let me have my sword, so maybe I can--"

She was interrupted when Leliana flung her arms around the Warden, holding her tightly. For a moment, Eliza stood still in surprise, before she hugged the bard back. Leliana rested her head in the crook of the young Warden's neck, closing her eyes. Eliza felt her friend's tense muscles relaxing under her touch.

"I am so happy you're all right," Leliana breathed.

The feeling of Leliana's lips against her throat sent a pleasurable shiver down Eliza's spine. Trying to calm her racing heartbeat, the young warrior rubbed the back of Leliana's neck.

"Me too," Eliza said.

\- - -

Though the air outside was freezing, the hall that they had entered was comfortably warm and dry. Eliza gripped the hilt of her sword, limping ahead of the others. Despite arguing with Wynne for fifteen minutes, the mage had refused to let her carry her own pack, instead giving it to Shale. Leliana walked beside her, keeping a supportive arm around her waist.

A man stood at the end of the hall, clad in silvery armor and a winged helmet not unlike Eliza's own (which had been recovered, but was badly battered in the fight). He stood calmly as the companions approached him.

"Welcome, travelers," he said. His voice was soft, almost ethereal.

"Greetings," Eliza said. It was hardly the oddest thing they had encountered, after all. "If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

"I am the Guardian of Andraste's Ashes," the man said.

"You are the only guard here?"

"There were once others. I am now the only one," the Guardian said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "They turned away from Andraste to worship a false god."

"The dragon," said Leliana. "Kolgrim and the other cultists were worshipping that beast. They set it upon us when we reached the mountaintop."

"Yes...I wish it had not come to that," The Guardian sighed. "Their ancestors were good men, faithful men who performed their duties admirably."

"I wish we hadn't had to kill them. But they attacked us, and we had to defend ourselves," Eliza explained. "We actually came here seeking the Urn. Can you let us through?"

"That decision is not mine to make," The Guardian said. "The worthy will be decided by the Gauntlet. Only the faithful will be able to pass through to the Urn and take a pinch of the Ashes."

"Only the faithful?" Eliza. "What exactly is this Gauntlet?"

"I cannot say exactly. Only that it separates the true and faithful from the false who might do harm to the Ashes."

Eliza looked back to the others, resigned.

"The Arl needs these ashes," she said. Then she turned back to the Guardian. "It seems we have little choice. Will you let us through to the Gauntlet?"

"I must first ask a question of you who would enter the Gauntlet," The Guardian stated.

"I believe I shall remain here," Morrigan drawled. "I am certainly not one of your 'faithful', nor have I any particular impetus to find these ashes."

Nodding, Eliza looked back at her companions.

"Probably a wise choice. Who wants to join me in the Gauntlet?"

Without hesitation, Leliana, Wynne, and Alistair stepped forward. Then, after a moment of contemplation, Zevran joined them. Eliza grinned at the elf.

"I never pegged you as a religious man, Zev," she said.

"I am full of surprises, my dear Warden," Zevran replied. "Perhaps someday I can surprise you more...privately."

Alistair saw Leliana's eyes narrow at the comment, though Eliza didn't seem to notice.

"Very well, Guardian. I await your question." Eliza said.

"Your father was too badly injured to escape from Highever. However, your mother could have escaped the castle with you and Duncan," The Guardian asked. "You left her, knowing that Howe would show no mercy. Do you feel that you failed your parents, by fleeing with Duncan?"

Eliza's jaw clenched, hands tightening into fists. Alistair's gaze snapped sharply to the other Warden, mouth opening as if to say something, but thought better of it. Despite their many conversations about Alistair's past and family, Eliza had told him very little about her life before being recruited by Duncan. He glanced over at Leliana, who was gazing at Eliza with a sort of sad sympathy.

"Answer truthfully," Said the Guardian.

"Yes," Eliza finally whispered. "I should have stayed and fought to the death."

Wynne placed a gentle hand on the young warrior's shoulder.

"And then where would we be?" She said softly. "We need you, Eliza. Your death would do no good for anyone."

"You can't blame yourself, Eliza. Nobody else does. You were facing an army, for Andraste's sake!" Alistair assured her.

Leliana simply reached out, squeezing the Warden's bandaged hand.

Eliza gave them a tight smile, but didn't respond.

"You may pass through to the Gauntlet," The Guardian said calmly, stepping aside and gesturing towards the door.

Nodding to the Guardian, Eliza limped through the doorway, still, as Alistair noted, holding onto Leliana's hand.

\- - -

Alistair gaped at the room before them. It was a wide chamber with several alcoves along each side. Each contained a ghostly figure who turned to look at them as they entered. Glancing over at Eliza, he saw that she looked as confused as he felt.

"Perhaps we should speak to them?" Leliana suggested after a moment.

Nodding, Eliza limped towards the nearest figure, a young woman with a bright smile. Alistair noticed that Leliana kept her hand firmly on Eliza's arm, supporting the young warrior, and wondered again how completely oblivious his fellow Warden must be not to notice that Leliana was head over heels for her.

"Er, hello," Eliza began. "I was wondering--"

"The smallest lark can carry it, while a strong man might not," The spectral woman said. "Of what do I speak?"

"Ooh, a riddle game! I love riddles," Leliana said.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around," Eliza said playfully. Leliana batted her on the shoulder and turned back to the spirit.

"A tune,"

"Yes!" The spirit smiled at them. "I am Ealisay."

They listened in fascination as the spirit told them about her childhood with Andraste. Leliana's hands tightened around Eliza's arm, her blue eyes wide and bright. As the spirit's story ended, she faded into mist, leaving behind a gentle aura of childhood affection and contentment. They carried on through the chamber, Leliana nimbly answering riddles, the others watching and listening in awe as the story of Andraste was told. As the last spirit's riddle was answered, and the huge doors barring their way swung open, Eliza turned to Leliana.

"I'm...not especially religious," Eliza said quietly, her face a picture of wonder. "But that was..."

"Incredible," Leliana breathed. "Never did I think that I would encounter the spirits of so many so close to Andraste...Maferath, Hessarian...it is beyond my ability to express."

Alistair smiled slightly as the bard curled her fingers around Eliza's hand. But his mind quickly returned to the task at hand. The next hallway was darker, cold, an eerie feeling pervading every inch of space.

"What d'you think will be next?" He asked, simply to fill the yawning space with sound.

"I suppose it's unrealistic to hope for cake and a warm bath," Eliza replied quietly.

"My dearest child..."

Eliza stopped short at the voice.

"F-father?" She whispered. The words shook.

A figure materialized in front of them. A man, tall and strong with gray hair and beard, wearing simple clothes of fine fabric. His dark eyes were easily recognizable, even to Alistair.

"You know I am not here, pup," He said. "No matter how we may wish it to be otherwise, I am gone, and nothing can bring me back."

"Wh-why are you here, then?" Eliza staggered forward, Leliana's hand falling from her nerveless fingers. "How am I supposed to get past this? I let you all down...you're gone..."

"You did no such thing," The man said. "Indeed, how can you get past this when you are standing still? You have done so much already. I could not ask for a finer daughter. But this holds you back still. You must look forward, on to the future. Do not let the past drag you down."

"I...I just wish you were really here, father," Eliza leaned heavily against the wall, sounding exhausted, through and through.

The ghost's expression softened; he reached out and pressed something into her hand.

"I know, pup," He said. "Take this. Know that you don't need to forget the past to move on with your life. And know that I love you, and I could not be prouder of you."

With that, the ghost evaporated into blue mist, leaving the hall silent and dark once again. Eliza still leaned against the wall, hunched over the object in her hand. Leliana walked over to the young Warden, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Eliza..."

"I'm fine," Eliza waved her off. The warrior raised the object in her hand, some sort of small pendant. She placed it around her neck. "Don't worry, I'm okay, let's move on."

"Eliza, you don't need to--"

"No, really, I'm fine," Eliza gave a slightly forced grin. "Look, I can sob myself into a stupor later, right now we have something more important to do."

"Yes, I'm sure bottling this up will work out great," Alistair mumbled.

Leliana reached out to embrace the Warden, but Eliza slipped away from her, limping hurriedly forwards. Alistair watched her go with an uneasy feeling, not missing the hurt on Leliana's face.

"Right then, onwards. What could possibly go wrong?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cousland can't handle all the feels. Coming up next...even more feels???


	4. The Double

As it turned out, a lot could go wrong.

The instant they set foot into the next room, a veil of smoke fell across the floor. Eliza stood alone, unable to hear the voices of her companions, her sword heavy in her hand.

"Leliana? Leli, are you okay?" She called.

"Calling on the bard to save you again?"

Eliza whirled, and came face to face with...herself?

Sort of herself, anyhow. The woman resembled her almost exactly, but for a few more scars, shorter hair, and a set of wicked-looking armor. She seemed tough and resolute, but wore a cruel sneer on her face. She looked Eliza over with cold disdain.

The young Warden prickled at the sight. There was something strange about this, something wrong.

"Great, now I'm hallucinating myself," She muttered. "This is the best day ever."

"Using humor to cover up your painfully obvious inadequacies," The Eliza-double chuckled. "How cute."

"I've always thought so," Eliza said, dropping into a combat stance. Her legs were rather unhappy with the movement, and made her quite aware of their displeasure. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"I'm you," The double replied. "A better you. A more effective you."

"Right. Of course," Eliza rolled her eyes. "This is some sort of test, right? You're better than me because you have pointy armor and show no mercy? Very intimidating."

"I'm better than you because I don't have all these ridiculous notions of romance and chivalry," The double said. "I'm better than you because I don't spend all my time trying to accommodate the wishes of every idiot I come across. Because I don't waste precious resources saving kittens from trees or rescuing every useless, tiny band of refugees that calls for help. Because I'm not obsessed with impressing a bard--who, by the way, is far too good for you. I'm better than you because I am focused on the mission and I will do whatever is necessary to save Ferelden. That is what a Warden needs to be. You are not up to the task."

A flicker of unease went through Eliza. She almost missed the double's swift movement, but managed to sidestep her sword and raise her own blade to the fight.

She did often worry about not completing her task...but...

"I save refugees and help the people I come across because it's the right thing to do," She shot back. "And yes, every once in a while it might slow us down. But what would I be fighting for, otherwise? I'm not just fighting to save Ferelden as a nation, I'm trying to help the people. I'm not going to turn them away just because someone thinks something else is more important. I'm fighting for the people who need it the most. That's what the Wardens need to be right now."

"That's a nice excuse for shying away from politics," The double said. "How long did it take you to save Redcliffe, all because you wouldn't make one tough decision?"

"I wasn't about to kill a child," Eliza growled. "And I did make a decision. I saved Redcliffe and the Circle without any more unnecessary death. I'm here now to help Eamon, and if all goes well than I'll have two forces at my back."

They circled each other, Eliza in a defensive posture, dodging the double's quick stabs and slashes.

"Well, you've certainly got it all worked out, haven't you?" The double said mockingly. "And what about your little side jaunts to please your companions?"

"They're a small price to pay for the people who are helping to save Ferelden," Eliza was more confident on this one. She might not always be sure of herself, but she would defend her comrades without question.

"And what about Leliana?" The double said. "You could have gotten your little friends killed just to impress her."

"It wasn't to impress her...I was trying to protect her," Eliza replied, stomach twisting uncomfortably at the recent memory of Marjolaine...the look on Leliana's face as the older bard tried to destroy her with words. Also daggers. "Marjolaine sent out assassins after us, I had to keep Leliana and the others safe. I would have done the same for any of them--"

"So you're trying to tell me that you have no other intentions towards Leliana?" The double said. "No feelings for her beyond what you have for the others?"

Eliza's jaw clenched, but she remained silent. The double was twisting her words around, making all sorts of false claims, but...she couldn't really deny this one.

The double already knew this, and a look of triumph went over her face. She'd found a vulnerability. Something Eliza couldn't counter.

"It's a mystery to me why you'd even imagine that Leliana could be interested in you," The double sneered. "You, a rather unimpressive Warden who's made nothing but mistakes. A former noble with a disgraceful past and a dismal future. A little girl with no idea what she's doing. But you beat up her ex-lover and all of a sudden you think you're some sort of big hero? Please."

"I know she's not interested," Eliza replied, parrying the double's swift thrust. "You don't have to remind me."

"I think I do. You have all these dreams of sweeping her off her feet someday," Eliza-double snarled. "Do you really think that a couple little flowers are going to convince her that you're the perfect woman? Marjolaine may have betrayed her, but they were together a long time, and she was charming, beautiful, skilled, and wealthy to boot. Leliana has probably had many lovers like that. How long do you think it would take her to get bored of you?"

Eliza ignored the comment, or tried to. But damn, if it hadn't struck exactly the way it was meant to. Leliana was beautiful, and wonderful, and she deserved more than Eliza could give her. There was no way such an amazing woman would settle for a Grey Warden with little more than a sword and a few bad jokes to her--

The double's blade ripped into her barely-healed side, and Eliza screamed, toppling to one knee.

"You're pathetic," The double snorted. She kicked an armored boot into Eliza's stomach, knocking the Warden onto her back. "You've failed at every important task in your life. Saving your family. Fighting at Ostagar. Finding the Ashes. You're not a hero. You're just a child, too distracted by your little crush to focus on the important things."

Eliza gasped for breath, clutching her side. Warm blood leaked between her fingers.

"You could never defeat the Blight," The being said. "You can't defeat Loghain. You can't defeat Howe. You can't even defeat yourself."

Eliza choked. This day was too much. It was all too much.

She'd tried to just hold it in, all the fear and the guilt and the longing. She'd resolved to push it the back of her mind after Highever and Ostagar, telling herself that she'd deal with it once this was all over, but somehow this place managed to drag it all back at once. Everyone she'd known growing up was dead, killed by Howe and her own cowardice. Leliana couldn't possibly feel the same as she did. And how, how was she going to defeat the archdemon? How was she going to unite the country, save Ferelden? She was too young, too inexperienced, too weak.

Everything swallowed her up at once, and she gave into the pain, a shuddering sound escaping her lips.

She could have remained there forever, lost in doubt and regret, but a sudden scream cut through her helpless fog.

" _ELIZA!_ "

It was Leliana. Her voice...desperate, strained, fearful. Eliza didn't think, didn't have to. Ignoring her screaming muscles, she staggered to her feet, grabbing her sword from the ground as she went.

The Eliza-double seemed surprised at her second wind, but raised her sword again anyways. The smirk was still fixed on her face. Eliza didn't care.

"What's this? The so-called hero making a--"

Eliza spun into the blow, hardly looking back as her blade took off the double's head. Leliana was the only thing that mattered. She charged into the mist, sword at the ready.

" _Leliana!_ " Eliza called. "Where are you? Are you--"

Leliana emerged from the mist, blood smeared across her face, several small cuts over her arms. Her terrified expression sagged in relief the instant she saw Eliza. Eliza was sure she was wearing the same look.

Before she could say anything to reassure Leliana, the bard dropped her daggers, strode up, and pulled her into a fierce hug.

"You are going to drive me insane," Leliana whispered thickly.

"Are you alright?" Eliza asked, head still buzzing from adrenaline.

"No," Leliana replied, her voice soft but intense. "I'm not. I haven't been calm in months. I can barely think sometimes, I worry about you so. And I know it's your duty, but you're always in so much danger. Just in these past few days, I...I just want..."

The bard pulled back, gazing up at Eliza with a storm of emotion behind her eyes. Her grip on the warrior's arms was painful, but Eliza could hardly feel it, hardly see anything aside from Leliana's tortured blue eyes burning up at her.

"Leli--"

The bard pulled her forward, and before Eliza knew what was happening, Leliana's lips were crushed against hers.

It was hard. Demanding. Desperate. Eliza was too stunned to move for a moment. A confusing mess of thoughts tumbled around in her mind, not the least of which involved how terribly awkward this kiss was. It certainly wasn't the sort of seduction that she would expect from a bard. But then Leliana's hand drifted from her shoulder, burying her fingers in the warrior's hair and cupping her cheek tenderly.

This was Leliana, beautiful and gentle. She'd been imagining kissing the bard since the first day they met.

_So kiss her back, you big sodding idiot!_

Eliza leaned in, felt Leliana's lips soften. The rough, fearful, kiss melted into something deeper. Sweet and warm. Leliana hooked an arm around her neck, Eliza wrapping her arms around the bard to pull her in closer.

A voice echoed out from the mist.

"Eliza! _Eliza!_ Where are you??"

They pulled away from each other just as Alistair came running from the mist.

"Thank the Maker I found you two," He panted. "Are you all right?"

"Y-yeah. Just fine," Eliza stammered, trying to collect her scattered thoughts.

"Eliza... _Eliza_ , you're bleeding!" Leliana said, alarmed. She pulled the Warden's jacket aside, staring at the wound.

"You're bleeding too," Eliza mumbled.

Her two friends leaned in to look over the cut.

"Doesn't look too awful," Alistair said. "Let's go find Wynne, she can fix you up."

Alistair dashed off into the mist again. Eliza and Leliana glanced towards each other.

"I'm, ah...about...what happened before..." Leliana gazed down at her boots, face flushing. "I'm sorry--"

"Don't be," Eliza cut her off gently. "Let's go find the Ashes, and then...we can talk."

Leliana nodded, looking like she'd just been ordered to her own execution.

"Right," She said, voice tight. She started forward.

"Wait, Leli--"

Eliza grabbed her arm, pulling her back. The bard's eyes were suspiciously bright, still turned towards the ground. Eliza cupped her chin, tilting her head up to face her.

"Leliana..." She leaned in and kissed the bard softly on the lips. "It's alright."

Leliana closed her eyes, breathing out a sigh.

"All right," She took Eliza's hand, her grip almost painfully tight. "We'll talk later, then."

"Later," Eliza agreed.

They walked into the mist after Alistair, still holding hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens!
> 
> Just kidding. There is no plot. Just ladies and feelings.
> 
> Stay tuned for more non-plot!


	5. Rebirth

"Maker...that bridge puzzle took ages," Alistair groaned, stepping off of the newly non-transparent bridge.

"No kidding," Eliza rubbed her head. "It's a good thing you had that parchment, Wynne. Never would have been able to remember all those patterns."

They walked away from the bridge room, down a long hallway. Leliana's hope that they had solved the final puzzle was quickly dashed as a huge wall of fire roared into life just ahead, at the mouth of a large room. They emerged into the chamber, and the bard could see a massive stairway leading up to some sort of altar. Her heart leapt at the sight of the statue that capped the staircase.

_Andraste._

Alistair yelped and pulled his hand away from the flames.

"Maker, that's hot!"

"Fire often is, Alistair," Eliza said, amused.

"I thought it might be some sort of trick," The templar whimpered, cradling his burnt finger. "How else are we supposed to get past?"

Zevran took the Alistair's hand in his, looking over the reddened skin.

"I think you will survive, Warden," He said, a sly smile spreading across his lips. "However, if you would like me to kiss it and make it better, I would be happy to oblige..."

Leliana grinned as Alistair turned beet red, pulling his hand back with an incoherent mumble.

Eliza had turned to a small stone pedestal, studying it with a frown on her face. Leliana placed a hand on the Warden's shoulder, reading the words carved into the rock.

_Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit. King and slave, lord and beggar, humble yourself before the Maker and be born anew in his sight._

Eliza looked back at Leliana.

"You're the riddle expert here, Leli," She said quietly. "What do you think?"

Leliana bit her lip. Could it really mean what she thought? Why would a test of faith require something like this?

_Because faith is stronger than any weapon. Because all man and women are equal in the Maker's sight, without the worldly distractions of wealth and status. Because fire is cleansing. We come into this world with nothing but ourselves...we must be reborn the same way._

After everything that had happened with Marjolaine...after her past had shaped her into a person she barely recognized...being born anew would be a blessing. The past few months, helping Eliza and the others...this was the first time she had felt good about herself in a long while. The first time she had felt like she was truly serving the Maker.

She pushed away her doubt. The instruction seemed fairly clear. She had to have faith. That was the most important part.

She looked up at Eliza. Her Warden.

"I think I understand," She whispered.

Stepping away from the Warden, she began undoing her belts. She let her weapons fall to the ground and unbuckled the straps on her armor, keeping her back to the others.

"L-Leli! What are you doing?" Eliza sputtered.

"Casting off my worldly trappings," The bard said calmly.

She sounded surer than she felt. Oh, she was confident in her interpretation of the riddle, but there was a prickle of dread in her stomach at the thought of her comrades seeing the scars. It was silly, sure, but...well, she hadn't taken off her clothes in front of anyone else for at least two years, and before that...

She shook her head, trying to dispel the terrible memories. Those were in the past. Now was the time to have faith. To be born anew...

"So we all have to..." Alistair said.

"I believe so," Leliana said.

"Well, well..." Zevran chuckled. "This quest is certainly heating up-- _ow!_ "

"Sorry, Zev, you deserved that one," Eliza grinned, nodding gratefully at Wynne.

Leliana ignored the banter behind her, swallowing hard. She dropped her leather cuirass and pulled her shirt over her head with trembling hands. Eliza sucked in a soft breath behind her. Leliana squeezed her eyes shut. Her body was too used, too broken to appreciate. If Eliza had ever been attracted to her, surely she was not anymore. She braced herself for rejection, either here or later.

Then a hand touched her shoulder, fingers brushing over her arm.

She glanced up at Eliza. The Warden's brown eyes held no disgust, no pity. Just warmth. Kindness. And a spark of desire that set Leliana's heart racing.

"It's okay," Eliza grinned, shedding her own clothes. "You'll get to see my scars, too. Once, when I was seven, a mabari bit me right on the arse. You can still see the teeth marks clear as day."

Leliana chuckled, blinking back the wetness in her eyes. Eliza always knew how to make her smile. She clearly knew where Leliana's many scars came from, and had realized that the bard was uncomfortable with showing them. She was trying to draw attention away from Leliana. The bard's heart swelled with gratefulness.

"I can't wait, dear Warden," Zevran said, smiling wolfishly until Wynne conked him on the head with her staff again.

As they all undressed, Leliana couldn't resist peeking over at Eliza. The warrior did have her fair share of scars. She had gotten used to the faint, jagged claw marks on the right side of Eliza's face, the scar left after that shriek had nearly torn her right ear off. Marjolaine had always considered scars to be ugly reminders of failure, but Leliana didn't think that the scarred ear and cheek made Eliza any less attractive. Just the opposite. Not that she was happy to see Eliza hurt, of course, but she liked the warrior even more for her resilience...

_Stop this ridiculous train of thought, Leliana...don't get your hopes up._

Now that her scars were revealed, there was nothing to lose. She had always been confident when it came to her body. Why else would Marjolaine have taken her as a lover? Many people had complimented her looks. Of course, that was before the abuse, the whips and the chains and the brands. Her body had changed over the past couple years as well--first softened by her time in the Chantry, then strengthened by travel and battle. Her hair was not as long or stylish as it used to be, and she certainly didn't have Morrigan's figure.

But she had always had slender, attractive curves, full breasts, and a backside that women in particular seemed to enjoy. She was dirty and bloody now, but she unwound her breastband and dropped her smallclothes as confidently as possible, angling herself to attract Eliza's attention.

Leliana heard a clang and a quiet curse as Eliza dropped her scabbard on her foot. She fought back a smirk, glad to know she hadn't lost her touch.

She looked over towards the blushing Warden, who was steadfastly looking away. The warrior had removed most of her clothes as well, including the bandages, and was working on her breastband. Leliana felt a pang at the sight of her recent wounds, the barely healed cut in her side and the dark bruises over her midsection. She also felt a rush of guilty desire. This wasn't supposed to be an opportunity for her to stare lecherously at the Warden, but she couldn't help but admire Eliza's slight body. The warrior was perhaps only a couple inches taller than her, and deceptively slender. But she still had the build of a warrior...lean muscle, strong limbs, the small breasts, just the size to cup in her hands...

And she did have a scar on her arse. Leliana giggled as the warrior pulled down her smallclothes enough to show the bite marks. Eliza was blushing bright red, but grinned back at the bard.

"We had to wave a rasher of bacon in front of that dog's face before he would let me go," She said, letting the last of her clothes fall to the ground. "Fergus told me to take it as a compliment."

"I would certainly compliment-- _owch!_ " Zevran yelped.

Leliana glanced back, seeing that the others were also undressed. Alistair had both hands over his crotch, face the color of a ripe tomato. Zevran was standing with his arms crossed, staring unashamedly at Alistair's muscles and Wynne's surprisingly perky breasts.

"What now?" Eliza said. Leliana could tell that she was fighting the urge to cover herself.

"Have faith, Eliza," She said. "As it said...humble yourself before the Maker."

She stepped forward, ignoring Eliza's gasp as she entered the flame.

_I have committed many sins in my life. I have hurt so many people, and I have been hurt in return. I have so many regrets. All but the last two years of my life..._

The flame roared around her, licking at her skin, but it didn't burn. It was warm. Comforting, almost.

_I am trying to make up for what I did. I am trying to redeem myself, to make something of my life. I want to help these Wardens...my dearest friends. I want to be worthy in your eyes._

She heard Zevran's voice, speaking a soft prayer in Antivan. Alistair muttering a few half-remember lines from the Chant. Wynne whispered something to herself. After a moment, she heard Eliza singing quietly, almost too quiet to hear. Her voice was unpracticed but familiar and pure as sunshine. Leliana heard her own voice raising in song, almost involuntarily, ringing forth in thanks and praise to the Maker. Her chest felt like it could burst, the sorrow and doubt and guilt falling away for a moment, replaced by a brightness and a joy that brought tears to her eyes. It was almost too much. She tilted her head up, breathing in the cool mountain air and the cleansing flame. She felt, in that moment, an absolute faith in her cause and in the Maker. She felt beautiful and righteous. She felt reborn.

_I was reborn the day I escaped the dungeon in Orlais. I am reborn once again today, cleansed and purified in your flame, dedicated to all that is good._

Words came unbidden to her lips, half-song, half-chant, as familiar as her own soul. The words of  _Transfigurations_ had always inspired her, but never seemed so meaningful as they did now.

_The one who repents, who has faith,_  
Unshaken by the darkness of the world,  
She shall know true peace.

_For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water._  
As the moth sees light and goes toward flame,  
She should see fire and go towards Light.

Her bare feet touched cold stone and she stopped, opening her eyes. A tear ran down her cheek, but she smiled as the sight of the chamber greeted her.

The Guardian was standing there, a small smile on his weathered lips.

"You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet," He said. "You have walked the path of Andraste, and like Her, you have been cleansed. You have proven yourself worthy."

\- - -

The group trudged down the mountain as the sun set. Eliza threaded her fingers through Leliana's, smiling as the bard squeezed her hand. The pouch of Ashes was securely closed and tucked inside her jacket. She still felt strange holding onto it. Yes, they had passed through the Gauntlet, but she felt a bit unworthy taking something so sacred. She'd never really been that religious, and she still wasn't about to join the Chantry, but this journey had changed things. It was...a powerful experience, to say the least.

_Leliana looked too moved for words as they climbed the stairs to the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Even though she was fully dressed once again, Eliza felt naked before the sacred artifact. With a trembling hand, she reached towards the Urn, removing the heavy lid and placing it reverently to one side. She still half-expected to be struck by lightning at any moment._

_"I...I never thought I would see this..." Wynne whispered._

_"It is the greatest honor of my life," Leliana said, voice cracking._

_Zevran remained silent, which, from him, was more telling than any sort of glib comment or joke. Even Alistair seemed a bit choked up._

_Eliza took the small leather pouch that the Guardian had given her and dragged it through the Ashes, trying to disturb them as little as possible. She was almost afraid to touch them herself, even after all this._

_After she'd secured the pouch and put it in her inside pocket, she replaced the lid on the Urn. They stood around the ancient artifact for a few moments longer. This was a sight that few had seen. A sight that they would most likely never see again. It was worth a bit of a delay._

Genitivi seemed just as excited to hear about the Ashes as they had been to see the Urn itself, and was almost overcome with emotion when Eliza showed him the pouch of Ashes. He wanted to tell the world about it. Eliza was a bit worried about this possibility. The mountains were dangerous, and she didn't want to see anyone injured in a quest to see the Urn when in all likelihood, they wouldn't get the chance. But Leliana spoke up, telling her that everyone should at least have the opportunity.

She was right, Eliza reflected. Chantry faithful should know. It wouldn't be right to lie to people about it. She'd loved reading Genitivi's books since she was a child. He could write something amazing about this place, and she'd hate to deprive another curious little girl of the chance to read about it. She had fond memories of staying up late and reading about heroes and history, far-off lands and fantastic journeys under the light of a flickering candle. That was one part she had enjoyed about her education.

The manners lessons and embroidering, not so much.

Leliana reached down, shyly wrapping an arm around her waist. She blinked in surprise, but happily leaned into the bard's touch.

"Do you want to talk about--?" She began hesitantly.

Leliana shook her head.

"Not now, Eliza," She whispered. "Please?"

"Okay," The Warden agreed. Leliana's reluctance to talk about the kiss was making her a little nervous. The fact that the bard kissed her in the first place was encouraging, but...maybe it was some kind of fluke. Maybe Leliana regretted it.

The bard seemed to sense her worry and rested her head on the Warden's shoulder for a moment.

"Once we have some time," Leliana said. "Then we'll talk."

Eliza nodded. Maybe when they got down the mountain, once they made camp...then Leliana would be ready to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! And thank you for your kind comments and encouragement.
> 
> I hope this chapter of gratuitous nudity and codex references makes up for the delay.
> 
> Coming up next...the journey to Redcliffe and advice from everyone's favorite assassin!


	6. Advice

As it turned out, they didn't have "time" for the entire journey to Redcliffe. Leliana was definitely avoiding her.

Whenever Eliza tried to walk alongside her on the road, Leliana would speak in short, clipped sentences or pretend to have an urgent need to speak to Wynne. When Eliza found her a sprig of Andraste's Grace, the bard accepted it without a word, not even looking the Warden in the eye. She never sat by the fire with the others, hurrying into her tent as soon as they set up camp. And she was purposefully switching night watch so that she wouldn't have to spend time with Eliza.

What was the bard playing at? Why would she kiss Eliza and then refuse to speak to her?

The Warden didn't want to pressure Leliana into anything. Maybe she had still been reeling from Marjolaine, and was just looking for some human contact. The more she replayed the kiss in her mind, the less sure she became of Leliana's intention. Maybe it hadn't meant anything to the bard. Maybe this was her way of letting Eliza down easily. She would rather have Leliana just tell her if that was the case...though a blunt rejection wouldn't be much fun either.

So Eliza tried to disguise her hurt by focusing on research. She read about the Dalish, the dwarves...about anything she thought might be helpful. It didn't distract her as much as she'd hoped. The weeklong journey back to Redcliffe seemed to take twice as long.

But at least they were almost there. Eliza could see the towers of Redcliffe Castle coming up on the horizon. Glumly, she kicked a rock ahead of her on the path.

"Why so grim, dear Warden?"

Eliza looked back at Zevran, smiling.

"Just a bit tired, Zev," She said.

"Tired of the pretty bard avoiding you, yes?" Zevran grinned.

Eliza snorted. She knew by now that it was nearly pointless to deny Zevran's observations. The elf was insanely perceptive.

"Yes," She kicked the rock again, casting a quick glance back at Leliana. "Not sure why she's doing it."

Zevran pressed his lips together, eyes flickering towards the bard. He obviously knew why the bard was keeping her distance, or at least had some idea.

"What do you think?" Eliza asked, in a tone that was more order than question.

Zevran chuckled.

"You are a smart one, Warden," He said, wagging a finger at her. "Unfortunately, it is not my place to tell."

That made sense. Zevran was oddly honorable for an assassin. And as much as she wanted to know what was going on, she didn't want to violate Leliana's privacy.

"Fair enough," She sighed.

Zevran smiled sympathetically, nudging her with his shoulder.

"I think it will work out fine, Eliza," He said. "And...I could help you, if you like."

"And how exactly would you help me?" Eliza replied, raising an eyebrow. These offers were usually followed by crude sexual innuendo.

"All in good time, my friend," Zevran rubbed his hands together. "If all goes well with the Ashes, then this Arl Eamon will be healed, yes? There will be much celebration. A banquet, most likely, with dancing and drinking and music..."

"Well, I don't want to get too far ahead of myself," Eliza chuckled. "But yes. I imagine the soldiers and people of Redcliffe would want to celebrate."

"Good. If we are successful, you must promise me a dance at the celebration," He said. "Then I will help you with your bard."

"I'd be delighted, Zev," Eliza said, executing a little curtsy. "But you're my friend, you know you don't have to bargain with me for a dance. And how would that help with Leliana?"

"Ah, so innocent still," He replied, eyes twinkling the way they always did when he was concocting some sort of plot. "Patience, Warden. I'll explain later."

"I'm not _that_ innocent," Eliza pouted.

"No. Not _that_ innocent, not in most ways. Not anymore," Zevran said. "But still not so experienced in others."

Seeing her expression, the assassin chuckled.

"Ah, don't fret, dear Warden," He said. "Innocence can be a good thing, sometimes."

Eliza doubted that. Leliana _had_ told Alistair that innocence could sometimes attract women, but...

Perhaps some innocence could be attractive, but Eliza couldn't picture Leliana being impressed by her stumbling attempts at romance.

Her thoughts were straying again. She shook her head, focusing on Zevran.

"Alright, Zev. I'll trust you on this one,"

"Good. You will not be disappointed," He grinned. "I look forward to our dance, milady."

"As do I," Eliza replied.

Zevran bowed dramatically, bending at the hip like a hinge, an exact match to the stuffy nobles she used to see at balls. Eliza stifled a giggle with the back of her hand. She tried to hide her smile, dipping down into a deep, traditional curtsy.

He extended an elbow with exaggerated solemnity. Draping her hand around his arm, she continued down the road alongside him.

Alistair trotted up next to her, giving a passable bow.

"Greetings, ser. Greetings, milady," He offered his hand. "Might I join you? There is a dark-haired, venom-tongued hag back there who has just threatened to turn me into a toad."

"Certainly, good ser," Eliza took Alistair's arm with her other hand.

They walked along the path to Redcliffe together, the banter and snooty noble jokes finally keeping Eliza's mind off of Leliana--if only for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short transition chapter...I love Zevran and his friendship with the Warden is one of my favorite parts of the game.
> 
> Coming up next...dancing, romance, insecurities...and the thrilling conclusion!


	7. Conclusion

Eliza couldn't help glancing back at the shield every few moments. It was certainly the nicest shield she'd ever owned, and enchanted to boot.

She's tried to refuse Arl Eamon's offer of the reward, saying that his aid in the Blight was all that she could ask, but he had insisted. And named her the Champion of Redcliffe.

Now that was odd. Very kind of him, certainly, but she'd never considered herself any sort of "champion". Champions were legendary figures. They were larger than life. Probably rich. They were confident and heroic and always knew the right thing to do.

Eliza shook her head. She was no champion. Just a Warden, trying to do the best she could. But if people wanted to think she was, then she wouldn't stop them. Not if it gave them hope.

She could hardly believe that they had succeeded. Arl Eamon was alive and well. The casualties weighed on her heart, but at least they had saved him.

She looked back at the full-length mirror in front of her.

Zevran was right. The Arl had organized a celebration. She could already hear revelers through the open window, and the sun hadn't even set yet. Good to know that the people were getting back on their feet. It would be nice to relax for a night, take a couple days before they left for Orzammar. She'd spent the previous day resting (at Wynne's insistence) and healing. Her side was still bruised and a bit tender, but it no longer sent shocks of pain through her every time she moved.

Her shoulders felt strangely light without the weight of her armor. She'd managed to get out of wearing a fancy gown, saying that this was an informal celebration for the whole town, and it would be ridiculous to put on something rich or expensive. Not wearing the fancy dresses was one of her favorite parts of being a Warden.

She bargained the tailor down to a simple skirt, a light blue shirt (the color reminded her of Leliana's eyes before she pushed that painful thought away), and a fitted leather vest. Her ankle-length boots were made of the same soft brown leather. Her hair was washed and brushed and fell loose over her shoulders. She smoothed down the front of the shirt, rolled the sleeves up to her elbows, and buttoned the vest. It...wasn't terrible. Clean and simple. Nice, but not too snooty.

She swallowed, suddenly anxious at the thought of what Leliana would say. If anything.

She desperately wanted to talk to the bard. If nothing else, she didn't want to lose her friend. She had to speak to her tonight.

_After my dance with Zevran_ , she thought, a small smile coming to her lips at that. What did he have planned? He looked so smug when he was talking about it, it had to be something good. Or really, really bad.

_Guess I'll find out_.

\- - -

Leliana leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

It was nice to wear something clean, something that wasn't armor. The dress was simple but beautiful, made of fine blue fabric. She wore her only matching shoes...the ones that Eliza had given her.

She shot another glance over towards the circle of people laughing and dancing. Eliza seemed happy.

Which...was good, of course. Eliza should be happy. That's why Leliana had been avoiding her in the first place, after all.

But Maker, was it difficult. And she looked so beautiful tonight. Longing hit her like a physical blow, and she tried to force it down.

The young Warden was currently flanked by several young men and women, all flirting shamelessly with her. It had been funny earlier, when Alistair was blushing and trying to fend off a whole gaggle of giggling girls. Morrigan glared away most of the men who approached her, but was now speaking very closely with a muscular young soldier. Zevran was obviously enjoying himself far too much, dancing with men and women in turn. A few people tried to flirt with Leliana as well, but she politely turned them down. She wasn't really in the mood.

She felt awful for keeping Eliza at arm's length for the past week...especially after their kiss in the Gauntlet, which was burned into her mind.

The young Warden was clearly hurt by the bard's treatment of her, and Leliana wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around Eliza and comfort her and be comforted in return, but she couldn't.

For a few brief minutes after the fire, she had felt pure and wonderful and _good_ , and she allowed herself to hope for a relationship with Eliza. But after they had left the temple, doubts began to creep in. She remembered her vague flirtations with the Warden, attempting to cover up her fear at her emerging feelings, the way she had forced her kiss on Eliza in the Gauntlet. What if Marjolaine was right? What if Leliana was manipulating Eliza, playing with her feelings for her own gain, without even knowing it? And maybe Eliza did have feelings for her, but she shouldn't. Leliana didn't deserve the Warden. She was broken. Ruined. Eliza deserved better.

So Leliana resolved to avoid Eliza until they could get past these feelings, and Eliza could move on to someone more appropriate, and then they could save Ferelden and Eliza would live happily ever after and Leliana would slink off to the shadows where she belonged.

Leliana squeezed her eyes shut, drawing in a deep breath.

No. She would not become Marjolaine. She would try to be a better person than the one she had been before. But it didn't matter. She was still not good enough for Eliza.

_Merde_ , she had been so emotional for the past few days. This forced separation from her best friend was destroying her. Normally she could have handled something like this. It would be hard, but she could usually put aside her feelings for the greater good, and still keep up a calm, even happy appearance.

But something about Eliza just brought her defenses crashing down.

She needed to put this out of her mind, but it was an impossible task.

The bard fought back a sharp pang of jealousy as a busty blonde girl placed a lingering kiss on Eliza's cheek. The young Warden giggled. Her cheeks were flushed. She looked tipsy, which made sense given how many people had brought her drinks. A tall young man wrapped an arm around Eliza's shoulder, pulling her close. Leliana bristled, clenching her fists in the fabric of her dress.

Yes, she had wanted Eliza to move on. But...did she have to do it so soon? And did she have to look so damn happy about it?

Eliza disentangled herself from the group after a few minutes. Leliana was relieved for a brief moment.

Then she saw Zevran make his way over to the young Warden, and her heart dropped. The assassin was constantly flirting with Eliza. She'd though he was mostly in jest, but...perhaps he was serious. Perhaps he was taking this opportunity to try and seduce her.

And apparently it was working. They were dancing together, spinning and whirling and laughing. His hands were on her waist. Leliana absently noted that Eliza was a rather good dancer. She was having difficulty concentrating around this sudden, odd pain in her chest. Eliza looped her arms around Zevran's neck, smiling at him beautifully, her body pressed close to his.

Leliana swore she could feel her heart shatter. She pressed her forehead against the cool stone of the wall, desperately trying to swallow back her tears.

She had to get out of here.

\- - -

Eliza laughed as Zevran spun her around and into his arms.

"You're a good dancer, Zev!"

"You're not so bad yourself, dear Warden," The assassin chuckled.

The music was slowing down, and Eliza threaded her arms around Zevran's neck, grinning fondly at him. He was a good friend too. Always knew how to cheer her up.

She mused that this whole romance thing might be easier if she and Zev were attracted to each other. He was always straightforward with her. Never kissed her and then refused to talk to her about it.

But she'd never felt that way about him. He was a handsome elf, she supposed, and she cared for him as a friend, but she couldn't imagine courting him. Recently she couldn't imagine being with anyone except...well...the person who didn't seem to have any interest in her anymore.

Her smile faded at the thought of Leliana.

"What's wrong?" Zevran cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.

"Leliana," The young Warden whispered, unable to find any other words.

Zevran nodded, smiling in a rare, gentle sort of way.

"Go speak to her,"

"She doesn't want to talk to me," Eliza said.

"She does," Zevran replied calmly. "But she is afraid."

"Of me?" Eliza wracked her brains. Had she done something wrong?

"Of what you make her feel," He said.

Eliza's heart skipped a beat.

"You really think she has feelings for me?"

Zevran chuckled.

"She is not as...subtle as she thinks she is," He said. "And something happened between you in the Gauntlet, no? I can tell."

"Yes," Eliza ran a hand through her hair, looking away. "Wynne said something too. A few weeks ago. That Leliana liked me...I didn't believe her then. After the Gauntlet, I thought maybe she was right, but..."

"But then the bard has been avoiding you," Zevran finished. "And you think she is trying to push you away...perhaps that she never liked you in the first place, and this is her way of rejecting you."

Eliza nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. Zevran reached out and took her hands, smiling.

"Fear makes us foolish, dear Warden," He said. "And love. Trust me. Do not let her push you away when she wants you with her."

The Warden studied the ground, scuffing her boot in the dirt.

She was hopeless at this sort of thing. Zevran was probably right. That kiss with Leliana...that had to be real, right?

She was still afraid to be rejected by the bard, to lose her best friend. But she couldn't just do nothing, either. The intensity of her feeling for Leliana was like nothing she'd ever experienced. It was frightening, to be honest. She had cared very much for Iona, but that seemed like a childish crush now. Every time she looked at Leliana, her heart suddenly felt too big for her chest, like her ribcage couldn't contain everything she felt for the bard.

"I'm scared too," She said quietly. "I've never felt this way before."

"Then imagine how scared _she_ is," Zevran replied. "Given how it ended the last time she felt this way."

Eliza opened her mouth to respond, but couldn't find the words. She hadn't thought of it that way before. How could she have been so stupid, so insensitive? Of course Leliana was struggling with her past. She'd only confronted Marjolaine recently, and the older bard had tried to tear her apart. Leliana had seemed okay, but...maybe she wasn't.

"She doesn't think she deserves you," Zevran said. "Go tell her that she is wrong."

"She thinks what?" Eliza said indignantly. "How can she--"

"Warden, as much as I enjoy your company..." Zevran chuckled. "You are spending far too much time talking with me, and far too little speaking to your bard."

"Oh-"

Eliza turned, looking around for Leliana, but saw no sign of the bard.

"She left towards that gateway over there," Zevran said, pointing.

That was strange. She remembered that gateway leading towards the east side of Redcliffe castle. Why would she leave the castle?

Eliza frowned for a moment before it hit her. _The gardens_. She must have gone there. Leliana loved the flowers and ivy that grew in the gardens of the castle.

"Thank you, Zev," She clasped his hand. "You're a good friend."

She began to walk away, but paused, suddenly curious.

"Wait...why did you ask for a dance before you told me all that?" She asked.

"Ah, that," He grinned. "I was hoping that some good old-fashioned jealousy would prompt your bard to action. Unfortunately she is too stubborn. Good luck, my friend."

Eliza shook her head, smiling, as Zevran trotted back towards one of the young women he had been flirting with earlier. Then she turned and ran through the gate, heart pounding with fear and hope.

\- - -

Eliza peeked around the corner into the gardens.

It was a small, romantic little area on the castle grounds, surrounded by a low metal fence with artistically swirling vines. She'd seen it once or twice with her companions. The dirt path that led to the garden narrowed and branched into little cobbled paths leading through the grass. Wrought-iron arches wreathed with ivy were placed over stone benches at intervals throughout the garden. Beds of colorful flowers grew among the grass and small trees. It was dimly lit by the lanterns from the courtyard and the glow of the moon. She could still hear the faint sounds of revelry coming from the main courtyard of the castle, but the gardens were fairly secluded, and it seemed that nobody had any interest in coming here when there was drinking and dancing outside.

She walked quietly along the little paths until she saw the figure sitting on a bench in the center of the garden, next to a fountain. She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of red hair. She had been fairly sure when she left the castle that Leliana would be here. She was glad her instincts hadn't failed her.

Something Leliana said, weeks earlier, suddenly came rushing back to her.

_"There were some gardens like these in Orlais. They were so beautiful. The perfect place to stop and rest, and release your burdens for a few moments. And very romantic as well."_

At the time she wondered who Leliana had romanced in those gardens. Now she could only hope it would be her.

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she looked over at the redhead.

Leliana was hunched over, elbows on her knees and face buried in her hands. Her blue dress rode up around her calves.

She was...she was wearing the shoes Eliza had given her. A rush of affection took the Warden by surprise, and she struggled to swallow back her emotions.

She made her way towards the bench. Leliana stiffened and looked up sharply at her approach. Her face were wet, her eyes red-rimmed, and she shrunk away from Eliza, turning her head and wiping furiously at her cheeks.

The Warden stopped a few feet away, stomach fluttering. This was almost surreal. Seeing Leliana cry at all was strange, but...over her? She couldn't believe it. Guilt swept through her. If Leliana was upset over her (which part of her still doubted) then she would fix this. And if she was crying over something else, then...she would still fix it. She hated seeing her best friend in pain.

Eliza hesitated a moment, then sat on the bench next to Leliana, still leaving a couple feet of space between them. The bard sniffed, glaring down at her shoes.

"Leli," Eliza said. "What are you doing here?"

Leliana closed her eyes for a long moment. When she finally opened them, she turned to face Eliza, a false smile on her lips.

"I might ask you the same question," She said, trying to sound playful. Her voice shook. "Shouldn't you be back at the castle, enjoying the rewards of a champion? Flirting with your adoring fans? Dancing the night away?"

"Leliana," Eliza said, frowning slightly.

"You are a very good dancer," Leliana went on, her voice a little too high. Her hands clenched and unclenched in the fabric of her dress. "I saw you with Zevran. Both of you were quite a sight. You would do very well at some of the ballrooms in Orlais--though, come to think of it, those dances can be dreadfully dull."

"Leliana, please--"

"You two make a very handsome couple, you know," Leliana's voice cracked, but she still kept going. "I always thought he seemed interested--"

"Enough!" Eliza cried. "I'm not with Zevran, Leliana. What's going on? Why are you crying?"

Leliana ducked her head.

"It's not important," She said softly.

"It's important to me,"

Eliza reached out, brushing a lock of red hair from Leliana's eyes. She cupped the bard's chin in her hand, tilting her face up.

"Talk to me, please," Eliza said. "I care about you. I want to help."

"You shouldn't--" Leliana choked.

"Why not?"

"I'm not a good person, Eliza," The bard whispered.

"Yes you are," Eliza brought her other hand up, framing Leliana's gorgeous face. "You're the best person I know. You're kind and caring and you've saved my life more times than I can count. You've only done good, ever since I met you."

Leliana let out a strangled noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"How could you possibly know that?" She said, an edge to her voice. "I have fooled so many people in my life, manipulated them into caring about me for my own gain. I was just like Marjolaine."

"You're nothing like her, Leliana," Eliza replied, gently but firmly. "You have proven time and time again that you've changed. I saw you in the Fade...that wasn't a lie. And I've never seen anyone bad worry this much over what they've done. You care about people. You're a good person, Leliana. I trust that...and I trust you more than anyone."

A pained smile went across Leliana's lips. She took a shuddering breath.

"You should not trust a bard so freely, _ma cherie_ ," She chided gently.

"I'm not trusting a bard," Eliza said. "I'm trusting _you_."

Leliana's breath caught.

Dimly, Eliza realized that they had moved closer together, that Leliana's lips were only inches from hers. The bard's eyes were half-closed, flickering down to the Warden's mouth. Eliza leaned in further, her nose brushing against Leliana's.

Their lips met--

" _No--_ " Leliana gasped, pushing Eliza away.

"I'm sorry, I'm--what did I--" The Warden stammered. She'd thought that was what Leliana wanted...dammit, she should have asked first, or something--

Leliana's hands caught her arms before she could move away.

Fresh tears streamed down Leliana's cheeks. Her eyes were agonized. She clutched Eliza's arms almost painfully.

"I'm sorry--" Eliza tried again, but Leliana interrupted by throwing her arms around the Warden, hugging her hard.

"Don't apologize," Leliana sobbed into her shoulder. "Don't ever apologize for something so beautiful. This is my fault. I should not have kissed you in the Gauntlet. I c-couldn't stop myself. But I can't do this."

"Why not?" Eliza hugged Leliana back just as fiercely, tears starting in her own eyes.

"You are my best friend, and I sometimes thought that...m-maybe we could be more than that," Leliana whispered. "But Marjolaine--"

"You are not Marjolaine," Eliza said. "She's gone. She doesn't control you anymore. This is about you and me. And if you want me, then...then why can't you do this?"

She was tired and sad and angry and she needed to know, needed to know the truth. She waited, still holding Leliana as the bard seemed to struggle with herself.

"I can't lose you," Leliana finally said. Her voice was tight with emotion. "And...I'm afraid of what you could do to me."

"I would never hurt you, Leli," Eliza said.

"I know you wouldn't," The bard said. "But you could. You could destroy me so easily. I've been broken once before. I don't think I could put myself back together again."

"You're the strongest person I know. I think you could," Eliza drew back, smiling even as a tear ran down her cheek. "But you won't have to. I'd die before I hurt you. Trust me."

Leliana took Eliza's face in her hands. Her piercing blue eyes burned into the Warden's, as if searching for the truth of her words. She swallowed and nodded, her face a mix of emotions from terror to hope.

"I do," The bard murmured.

She curled her hand into Eliza's hair and dragged her into another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst and feelings and fluff! I wanted the last chapter to end on a happy note :)
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my favorite quests.
> 
> The story doesn't mess with canon too much. Just adding a little more romance and angst and whatnot.


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